


Tests of Strength

by fourdaysofrain



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:20:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22310173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourdaysofrain/pseuds/fourdaysofrain
Summary: “Kid, do a backflip.”“Um, sorry?” Peter said, a nervous laugh bubbling out of his mouth before he could stop it.“I’m pretty sure those spidery little ears of yours heard me the first time.” Tony walked over from his desk and leaned on a counter facing Peter. He raised a nonchalant eyebrow. “Do a backflip.”---A(nother) gift exchange fic for the Irondad Fic Exchange!
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 44
Kudos: 514
Collections: Irondad Fic Exchange 2019





	Tests of Strength

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ClickBearr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClickBearr/gifts).



> This is for clickbearr! Their username is the same on tumblr and ao3 :)  
> Sorry this is a day late! I underestimated my school workload.  
> The prompt I chose was "Tony doing tests on Peter's powers (how much weight can he lift? can he stick to a non-stick pan? etc.)"

“Kid, do a backflip.”

Peter looked up from his AP Chem worksheet. He was in the lab with Tony, and up until now, they had been working quietly at their own separate desks. 

“Um, sorry?” he said, a nervous laugh bubbling out of his mouth before he could stop it. 

“I’m pretty sure those spidery little ears of yours heard me the first time.” Tony walked over from his desk and leaned on a counter facing Peter. He raised a nonchalant eyebrow. “Do a backflip.”

Peter looked over to Tony and then down at the chair he was sitting in.

Tony sighed. “Obviously, stand up first.”

_ Duh,  _ Peter thought as he stood up.  _ Of course, you need to stand up before doing a backflip in Iron Man’s lab. What else would you do? _

He stood up, pushed in his chair, and shuffled a few feet away from the desk. He looked at Tony again, and upon receiving a set of raised eyebrows, he jumped and did a succinct backflip, his feet landing only a few inches from where they started. He looked for a reaction from Tony, but he remained unaffected. 

“Was there a reason for that?” Peter asked. 

“Suprise single-blind study, no questions.” Tony took off his tinted glasses and set them neatly on the counter behind him. ”Close your eyes.” 

“Um, okay.” Peter scrunched his eyebrows together as he shut his eyes. “Will this hurt?”

Peter felt Tony gently put a hand on his shoulder. “Course not, I’m not a maniac.” The hand on his shoulder started to tug him away. “Come here.”

Peter let himself be led blindly around the lab. After a minute or so, they came to a stop.

“Keep your eyes closed,” Tony warned. Peter heard him step back. “Do another backflip.”

Peter moved a few steps to the right and then did another backflip. “Can I open my eyes yet?”

“Go ahead.”

He opened his eyes and looked around. Tony had led him to the workshop portion of the lab, where they were currently taking apart the engine of one of his cars in their spare time. He frowned at the oil spill he caused last week. He’d have to clean that up soon. He looked up and shrugged at Tony. 

“Had a theory. It panned out,” Tony cooly stated.

“What was your theory?”

Tony picked up a screwdriver and tossed it up in the air a few times. Peter tracked it with his eyes, watching it go up and down, the handle spinning over and under the head. 

“Close your eyes again.”

“Um, I’m not sure I like where this is going, Mr. Stark.”

Tony looked at the screwdriver and then back to Peter. Suddenly, as if just now realizing what he was about to do, he barked out a laugh and set the screwdriver down on the countertop next to him, his hand resting on top of it. 

“Right,” he said, shaking his head slightly. “Right, I’m being eccentric. Ignore me, head back to your side of the lab.”

Peter muttered something indecipherable in response. He peered at Tony from the corner of his eye as he turned around to go back to his desk. 

After a few seconds of walking with his back turned, he jerked to the left, just to see a screwdriver fly by where his head was a moment before. He spun around and gaped at Tony. 

“Holy shit, what was that for?” he sputtered. 

Tony had the decency to look sheepish. “Okay, I admit that was a little much. But check it!” He pointed at Peter. “How’d you know to move your head?” 

“I, uh--” Peter looked down at his hands, at a loss for words. “I just did.”

He couldn’t explain it. There hadn’t been any noticeable warning. It had felt like someone was pulling his head on a string to the left. He probably could have fought it, but he didn’t see any reason to. Besides, if he had fought against it, he’d probably be nursing a goose egg for the next couple of hours. 

“Enter my backflip test,” Tony started. “You moved to the right before doing your second backflip. Any reason why?”

Peter thought back to a few minutes prior. “I did,” he said. “Was that wrong?”

“No right or wrong answers in this place, kid.” Tony walked past him to pick up the screwdriver. “But you were right to move. I put you in the middle of a puddle of oil, you would have slipped if you tried to land a flip.” Peter’s eyes widened. Tony grinned sarcastically at him. “I would have caught you. Probably. Maybe not, actually. Don’t want to get any oil on my clothes.”

“No offense, Mr. Stark, but why did you do all this?” Peter decided to ignore the possible child-endangerment. He was almost 16, after all. He could handle himself. 

Tony tilted his head and gazed at Peter through relaxed eyes. For a moment, he felt as if he was one of Tony’s projects, as if he was breaking down into ones and zeroes in front of his eyes. 

“As I said, I had a theory.” Tony spun on his heel and went back to his workspace.

Peter followed him. “Hey, man,” he pestered, only feeling a little like a bothersome insect. “Can you tell me the theory?”

“Patience is a virtue, young spider,” Tony cajoled as he motioned his hands to wake up FRIDAY. 

Tony’s workspace blew up in an explosion of holograms. Once Peter’s eyes adjusted to the blue light, he could see quite a few pages about spiders open from various sources online. He skimmed a few, making out a few keywords. After a moment, he looked at Tony, waiting for an explanation. 

“You got your powers from a spider bite, obviously. So I did some research on spiders.” Tony waved through the holograms and expanded one so Peter could easily read it. “Did you know that there’s a species of spider that knows when it’ll be in danger?”

Peter’s eyes widened. “What, really?”

“Yeah, really. Some science-y combination of hormones and feeling vibration through their leg hair.” Tony paused to let Peter process. ”Given you’re wearing pants, it’s probably not the latter. But, you are filled to the brim with a hormone soup right now, so…”

Peter scrunched his nose. “Ew.”

Tony leaned back in his chair. “It’s your weird spider powers. Anyways, turns out you have it too.”

Peter sat down in a nearby chair to think about it. In his previous fights, he had avoided almost all of the hits anyone throws at him. He had always assumed that he had better instincts than the attackers. 

“That sucks, man.”

“It--” Tony looked over at him. ”It  _ sucks?” _

“Well, I mean,” Peter said, rubbing his neck. “I just thought I was really good at fighting.”

Tony barked out a laugh. “At least now we know how you were able to stay in the ring with Happy for so long.”

Peter huffed and looked away. Since May found out about Spider-Man, she had wanted him to spend more time with Tony as a sort of job shadow so he can learn how to be safer in the field. So far, he’d trained with Rhodey and Happy. Tony typically stayed out of the physical training, keeping himself in the lab most of the time. Peter got it, he did, but it’d be cool to train with Iron Man for once. 

“Which brings me to my next point,” Tony continued, closing down the holograms. “We’ve got some tests to do.”

“Tests?” he asked, voice involuntarily jumping up an octave. When he was first bit, he was worried about government scientists poking and prodding him with needles and keeping him away from his family.

Tony seemed to notice his discomfort and waved a hand noncommittally. “Nothing your weirdly-hot aunt wouldn’t approve of. Just some standard measurements. Lift a few weights, leap over a few tall buildings in a single bound, the usual.”

“Okay.” Peter snorted. “Yeah, sure. I mean, it’d be cool to know all that anyway, so…” He trailed off and looked up at Tony. “Did you wanna do it now?”

“Yeah.” Tony grabbed his tinted glasses and put them back on in one smooth move. “Unless you’ve got something better to do?”

Peter gave his AP Chemistry homework a forlorn glance. “Nah, I’m-- I’m pretty free. Nothing going on right now.”

“Great,” Tony said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s head downstairs.”

Peter followed Tony out of the lab and into the nearby elevator. He’d been to the gym a few times before, mainly to train with Happy. When he trained with Rhodey, they’d normally stay outside. He was excited to finally visit the gym with Tony, some childish part of him still wanting to show off. He tried to get his nerves under control as the elevator slowly lowered. 

Finally, the elevator doors opened to the gym. There were machines lining the walls. Some of them looked familiar to Peter: there was a line of treadmills to his left, and some of those benchpress things lining the wall across from him. Most of the machines just seemed like weird chairs or benches that were slightly warped. 

“Don’t worry about the machines,” Tony said, waving his hand at the various machinery. “They’d all be too easy for you.”

“Oh, yeah.” Peter ran his hand along one of the nearby weights. It was labeled 40 pounds. “This is easy. I lift weights all the time.” 

He shook his fingers off the weight when they stuck nervously to the side of it. He smiled sheepishly at Tony, who was looking at him with a quirked brow. 

“Cap’s old stuff is over here.” He motioned for Peter to follow him to the back corner. “We renovated recently, so he’s in the corner of shame for the moment. Figure it’s a good enough place to start.” He patted one of the punching bags that looked like it belonged in an arcade. “This one will give us a readout of how strong your punches are. Go ahead and hit it.”

Tony stepped back, giving Peter ample space to hit the punching bag. He shifted his weight from side to side and shook his right hand. He punched it casually. The bag didn’t even move.

Tony looked at the side of the machine and clicked his tongue. “113 pounds of force. Forget to eat your spinach?”

Peter glared at him half-heartedly out of the corner of his eye. He punched it again with a bit more force. 

“780. Now we’re getting into enhanced range, kid. Give it another shot, come on!”

Peter gritted his teeth and punched the bag with all his force. The bag split around his knuckles and he ended up with his arm halfway submerged in sand and fabric. He looked over at Tony and raised his eyebrows. Tony rubbed his forehead and checked the side of the machine. 

“Error.” Tony sucked air through his teeth sharply. “Guess that settles that.” He looked away and scratched his temple. “Can’t even remember what the max was.”

Peter pulled his arm out of the bag and tried not to grimace as a few grains of sand fell to the ground. 

“Sorry, Mr. Stark. I didn’t mean to, uh…” He trailed off as he looked at the gaping hole in the punching bag. He cleared his throat. “Do that. That’s… my bad.”

“Y’know what, kid?” Tony chuckled. “It was about time that thing kicked it. Don’t worry about it.”

Peter felt his cheeks flush as he smiled awkwardly back. “Alright. Okay, uh-- What else did you want to test?”

“What do you want to find out?”

Peter thought back to when he tried to test his powers on his own, the extent of which was done secretly in the bathroom. He knew he was strong enough to break the sink and sticky enough to stick to the medicine cabinet, but that was about it. He was enhanced enough to survive all of his fights up till now, at least. 

“Um,” he said after thinking for a moment. “I kinda want to know what I can stick to?”

Tony smirked. “What a coincidence, kid. So do I.”

“Should I just start testing things?” Peter asked, hand halfway to the nearby wall. 

“Why not?” he replied. “But let’s do stuff you haven’t tried yet. Walls are old hat.”

Tony patted his pockets and pulled out his phone from his pants, holding it out towards Peter with his head tilted slightly. 

Peter’s eyes widened. “You want me to stick to your phone?”

“No, I want you to take a selfie,” Tony quipped. 

When Peter didn’t make a move to grab the phone, Tony grabbed his hand and slapped the phone in his palm, screen down. 

“Okay, now turn your hand upside down without letting the phone fall.”

Peter clutched the phone with his fingers. “Do you not have a phone case?”

“Look who you’re talking to,” Tony said. “If I crack my phone screen, I can just buy a new Apple store.”

“Oh, okay. Cool.” 

Peter’s grip slightly loosened as he tried not to think about his own phone screen that looked more like a spider-web than a piece of glass. He flipped the phone over in his hand subconsciously, which caused the phone to turn on. The lock screen background made him smile. It was a picture of Pepper, taken in Tony’s workshop. Pepper was holding one of the nanotech units in front of her chest with one hand with her other arm stuck towards the camera with the palm out. She looked like she was in the middle of laughing. 

It was kind of weird to think about what Tony and Pepper did while they were alone, but apparently it involved Pepper making fun of him while he was working on his suits. It was sweet, Peter thought. He knew that Tony and Pepper weren’t together during the trip to Germany, but they announced their engagement just a few weeks ago. It was good to see they had fun together. Or maybe he was reading too much into a phone lock screen. But Tony seemed much happier now than when they first met, at least from his  _ see-for-a-few-hours-every-week-or-so _ perspective. 

“Have you met Pep yet?” Tony asked, following Peter’s line of sight. 

“Uh, no. No, not yet.”

Tony smiled. “I can introduce you next time you’re both in the same building. Should happen eventually.” His focus went back to the task at hand. “Don’t be embarrassed if it slides around. Happens to the best of us.”

Peter screwed up his face and focused on sticking. It makes his head hurt if he thinks about it too much; the sticking is much easier when it’s done instinctually, when it’s either stick or die. In this case, it’s either stick or maybe break Iron Man’s personal phone, which has almost the same effect. He slowly turned his hand upside down and splayed out his fingers, leaving the phone remaining flush with his palm against all odds. 

Tony poked the phone. It stuck. 

“Alright, kid, keep sticking. I’m going to mess with it.”

Peter snorted as Tony kept trying to wiggle the phone. “This is glass. Glass is  _ sheer.  _ It should be sliding around.”

“I don’t know, man.” Peter flipped his hand back over and held the phone out to Tony. “I’m just sticky.”

Tony took the phone with a quick snap of his wrist and slid it back in his pocket. “That’s the fun part: you’re not sticky. It must be some…” He wiggled his fingers off to the side. “Electrostatic… Something.”

“I have it on my feet too,” Peter added helpfully. 

Tony sighed and motioned to the window behind him. “Do your thing.”

Peter walked past Tony to reach the window. He looked over his shoulder once, and then crawled up the window. He stood up straight, effectively parallel with Tony’s line of sight. Tony walked up and pushed his shoulder. He didn’t move. 

“I give up,” he said. “You’re even wearing shoes! This is worse than Thor’s hammer.”

Peter snorted and turned his neck to make eye contact with Tony. He said in a deep, gravelly voice, “Whosoever pushes this spider, if they be worthy, shall possess the power of Spider-Man.”

Tony sighed again. His lungs would probably fall out by the end of this day. “Alright. Day one results: super strong, super sticky. Anything else?”

“Um…” Peter cringed as his stomach growled. “Can we test my metabolism?”

Tony checked his watch and huffed. “Time flies. Sure, kid. What do you eat these days, pizza? Dead flies?”

“Chinese?” Peter countered, lowering himself down to the ground and wiping his hands on his jeans. 

“Here, I’ll show you where we keep the takeout menus.”

Tony led Peter back to the elevators. They made their way to the kitchen area and ordered some dinner without any trouble. After a bit of chatting, Tony went down to the entrance to the compound to pick up the take-out. He returned promptly, and they started to chow down. 

After a few minutes of silence, Peter got hit in the head by a chopstick. He gasped and looked up to Tony, who was shamelessly acting as if nothing happened. 

“Again?”

“Just testing your…” Tony snapped his fingers as he tried to come up with a name. “Spider hormones. Turns out you’re vulnerable while you’re eating.”

Peter picked up the chopstick. “I was in the middle of chewing, man!”

He put the chopstick in the middle of his palm and flipped his hand upside down, showing off a little. Tony tried to nonchalantly tug it off, but it was stuck. 

“Very funny. This place is filled with forks, I don’t need that.” Nonetheless, he was still trying to get his chopstick back. “Alright,  _ please?”  _

At the magic word, Peter unstuck from the chopstick. Tony jolted back slightly at the sudden change of resistance. 

“Mess with the spider, you get the webs,” Peter retorted. 

Tony laughed. “Remind me to not get on your bad side.”

When Peter left the table to throw away his empty box, he eyed the pans hanging on the kitchen wall. 

“Are these pans non-stick?” he called over his shoulder. 

“Pretty sure. No one uses them anymore, so they might be a bit dusty.” Tony trailed behind him and leaned on the wall. “Why, still hungry? I can cook up a mean omelet.”

Peter stuck his hand to the center of one of the pans and pulled it off the rack. He looked at Tony, the pan flush with his hand. 

“Not very non-stick after all.” 

Tony quirked an eyebrow. “You better not get spider-fingerprints on everything now.” He warily watched as Peter eyed the ceiling. “Or spider-footprints on anything you can’t clean up.”

Peter sighed and mumbled something that almost sounded like  _ arachnophobe.  _ Tony threw his other chopstick at him, which he caught with his free hand without looking. He threw it back at Tony, who fumbled with it before getting a solid grasp. 

“Elder abuse, I’m telling your aunt,” Tony threatened. 

Peter laughed. “She’d be on my side.”

“You Parkers.” Tony sniffed theatrically. “Always ganging up on me.”

Peter smirked and put the pan back on the rack. 

_ It was a fun day,  _ he thought. And then he stuck his hand to his phone, just because he could. 

**Author's Note:**

> me? having unsatisfying endings to my fics? never!  
> check me out on tungler: [spider-beep](spider-beep.tumblr.com)


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